I’m all set for my birthday week. As an adult, I don’t expect everybody to get all worked up about my birthday. In fact, when I came home from China with Baby, my mother said to me “You know, it’s not about you anymore.”
Several years ago I started cultivating companies that will help me celebrate. If you sign up online, they’ll send you a coupon on your birthday. This year I have coupons from Panera, Jamba Juice, Ben & Jerry’s, Brueggers, Nothing Bundt Cake, Noodles, Caribou and Dairy Queen. Except for Caribou which needs to be used on my actual birthday, I have planned to spread the others out over the upcoming few days.
I don’t give myself a card; it seems a little overkill to make a card and then give it to myself. However some years I do bake myself a birthday cake or a birthday pie; some years I even throw myself a party. No party this year and the jury is still out about the cake/pie. I gave my BFF theatre tickets for her birthday and turns out that the date that was good for her was my actual birthday, so I guess technically I gifted myself with theatre tickets this year!
YA and I went to Fawn-doe-Rosa on Saturday. Standing in front of us in line was a family of five – two parents and three teenagers. It was clearly not a happy family outing with a lot of rolled eyes, big sighs and snappish comments.
What made you finally realize your parents were smarter than you thought?
The narrator of one of my current books announces early on that she and her husband have several nicknames for their 5-year old son: Chicken, Peach, Cutlet, Noodle, Sweet Pea. As the book goes along, she uses these nicknames frequently and it made me think about how much I use nicknames.
My daughter has had many nicknames over the years: Pooter, Babycakes, Babylet, Honeybunch, Punkin. My animals have many as well: Rhiannon, Rhianny-boo, Rhi Rhi, Guinevere, Gwen, Gwenny, Gwenner. Nimue, Nimmers, Nimeray, Zorro, Zozzo, Zodder.
I also have nicknames for a lot of my friends – Abster, J-fer, JuJu, Bob-o, Jaw… the list goes on.
I only have two nicknames given to me (that I know of): She and Verily Sherrilee. “She” is from when my baby sister couldn’t say Sherrilee and it kinda stuck. And, of course, Verily Sherrilee was bestowed on me by my fellow baboons here on the trail.
Are you a nickname giver? Or a nickname receiver? Let’s hear some of them.
It’s always fun to go into a new restaurant and see what the bathrooms are like. Some are very nice, some are small and rather “quaint” and some barely qualify as up to code.
I was in a hotel that had black mold on the shower tile and that one still qualifies as the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed at.
There’s a business I get to a few times per year and the mens bathroom there has had a broken fluorescent light fixture leaning in the corner for several years and one urinal has had a bag over it just as long. And I have no idea what the womens bathroom is like. Not even sure where it is to be honest; it’s not right next to the mens anyway. I keep thinking there must be a nicer bathroom for employees someplace. Or maybe that’s just a ploy by the owner to be sure no one spends too much time in there.
I had to take pictures. Here are the signs on the four stalls:
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
And the fun didn’t stop there:
Oh my….
Our townhall still has an outhouse. It’s insured for $500.00. Mens and womens side. Two hole-er on each! But no lights… plan accordingly.
There are lots of retro tv stations these days and they do seem to occasionally be scraping the bottom of the barrel to fill their programming slots. Yesterday afternoon I found an old movie that I had never heard of – The Wasp Woman. And now I know why. It was truly dreadful – a poor premise, scenes that didn’t connect to each other, sad special effects and outrageously bad acting. It was one of those movies that is so bad that you can’t look away.
The head of a cosmetics company finds a bizarre scientist who is using wasp royal jelly to create a fountain of youth. After testing it for just a few days on one cat, they start testing it on the company head. She also secretly injects herself with more serum late at night. Of course, the cat turns into a wasp and then the woman intermittently turns into a waspish creature, but only at night. She doesn’t remember these episodes (although you’d think she’s be tipped off by the blood that ought to be all over her clothing) and is eventually killed by being shoved off the balcony of the tall cosmetics company building.
I’m still not sure why I kept watching, perhaps a fascination with the reality that something so terrible actually made its way onto film.
If you turned into an animal/human hybrid at night, what animal would you be? Or what is the worst movie you’ve ever seen?
First day back at work after a week and a half of stay-cation. By 3 p.m. I felt like I needed a nap. In my pajamas by 5:30 p.m. Hopefully tomorrow will be a little less consuming.
When have you needed a vacation after your vacation?
Every Spring, Husband and I look around at our flower beds and say “We don’t need to buy any perennials this year. Our beds are just fine.” Every year, we manage to find reasons to buy more perennials. This year we outdid ourselves and bought 31. We got 7 Bleeding Hearts, 6 Maidenhair Ferns, 6 Veronica Speedwell, 5 Lupines, 2 Helenium, 1 Missouri Primrose, 1 Rosemary, 1 Baptesia, 1 White Coneflower, and 1 Little Lamb Hydrangea.
The logic that went into the Speedwell purchase was pretty lame. We were at Menards looking for seeds to start our late season spinach, beets, lettuce, carrots, and parsley crops, and Husband found these Speedwells in need of transplant. He said “We just saved a lot of money buying things on sale at Herbergers, and these really need a home”, as though we were talking about kittens or something. Well, of course I said “let’s get them”. We egg each other on in greenhouses and plant stores like alcoholics in a liquor warehouse. Husband says “These will help keep the weeds down. You know how much you hate weeds”. I say “We are just increasing the value of our home as well as its curb appeal when we want to sell”. I think this is all faulty logic, and gives us excuses to feed our plant habits.
How do you talk yourself into things? When do you use faulty logic?
With humble gratitude for Meredith Wilson’s en-chant-ing opening to The Music Man.
PROGRAMMER 1:
Plastic for the orders.
Plastic for the downloads.
PROGRAMMER 2:
Visa for online.
Visa on the phone.
PROGRAMMER 1:
Credit for the software.
Credit for the hardware.
PROGRAMMER 2:
Credit for the needs, and the wants, and the bibelots.
PROGRAMMER 3:
Amazon for the hogs feet, cakes and longjohns.
Amazon for the crackers, and the pickles, and the computer paper.
PROGRAMMER 4:
Look, what do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
PROGRAMMER 5:
Where do you get it?
PROGRAMMER 4:
What do you twitter?
PROGRAMMER 2:
You can script, you can program, you can script,
You can chat. You can twitter, twitter, twitter, you can chat.
You can chat. You can chat, chat, chat, chat, twitter, twitter, twitter.
You can twitter all you wanna, but it’s different than it was.
ANALYST:
No it ain’t, no it ain’t, but you gotta know the database!
PROGRAMMER 3:
Well, it’s Jeff Bezos made the trouble,
Made the people wanna buy, wanna get, wanna get, wanna get it in a box.
7,8,9,10,12,14, 22, 23 orders to the front porch.
PROGRAMMER 1:
Yes, sir, yes, sir!
PROGRAMMER 3:
Who’s gonna patronize a big box store anymore?
PROGRAMMER 4:
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
NEWSPAPER READER 1:
Where do you get it?
ANALYST:
It’s not Amazon alone.
Take a gander at big box stores,
At the postmodern store,
At the out-of-date store
At the passe, postmodern,
Departmentalized big box store.
PROGRAMMER 4:
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
CONSULTANT:
Where do you get it?
PROGRAMMER 4:
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
What do you twitter?
CONSULTANT:
Where do you get it?
PROGRAMMER 1:
You can chat, you can twitter.
You can chat, you can twitter.
You can twitter, twitter, twitter
You can chat, chat, chat.
You can twitter all you wanna,
But it’s different than it was.
ANALYST:
No, it ain’t, but you gotta know the database.
PROGRAMMER 3:
Why, it’s I-need-it-easy thinking
Made the trouble
Need it easy, need it easy.
Put the order in a box, in a box,
What I-need-easy
In a box with a smile
Made the big box store obsolete.
ANALYST:
Obsolete, obsolete, obsolete
SALESMAN 4:
Malls out the window.
The smiling box
Takes the job of the sales clerk.
Closing all the stores.
ANALYST:
Who’s gonna patronize the big box store any more?
PROGRAMMER 3:
Gone, Gone
PROGRAMMER 1:
Gone with the mall and the outlet and the discount store.
Gone with the chain and the retail store with clothes on a rack.
ALL
Who’s gonna patronize a bog box store any more.
Big box store.
What are the long-term implications for America and the world, assuming I dare worry about the world?
I missed the “biggest shopping event ever”. Not only did I miss it, I didn’t even realize I was missing it. I’m talking about Prime Day on Amazon. Turns out that it’s a great big sale for those who are signed up for Prime. I noticed a story about it the day after it was over – the first I’d heard of it.
Turns out that 100 million products were sold with the FireTV Stick with Alexa Voice Remote leading the way as the number one seller. I don’t even know what a FireTV Stick is. The Echo Dot came in second. I don’t know what that is either. Apparently another big selling item was the Instant Pot multicooker. I DO know what that is. In fact, if I had been a Prime member and if I’d known about the sale, I might have been interested. But I don’t spend enough on Amazon in a year to justify the cost of Prime and getting a glorified pressure cooker isn’t a big enough incentive to change that.
But it makes me worry that not only did I now know that this event was happening, I also don’t even know what the top selling items were. Am I out of step with my own culture? Is the world speeding up while I’m slowing down?
First week of August, our quiet little lives will be interrupted by five visitors – Husband’s son and his fiancé, and their (combined) three girls, ages 15, 12, and 9. Though I’m pretty relaxed when having just one or two guests, I tend to get somewhat anxious with lots of company, and am trying to think ahead – prepare now so it’s a bit more manageable while they’re here. (You can also read this as: I like to be in control of things.) Since our place is just 900 sq. feet, and we would be practically on top of each other if we all tried to stay here, we’ve arranged with a friend two blocks away to sleep in her guest room – let them have the house – on the nights they are with us. (They will spend some time with other family.)
Average temps for this time of year are around 83˚ F., and we do have A/C if needed. We have enough beds, if we include futon, and bedding. I’ve deep cleaned recently, so can do a surface cleaning before A-day (A = arrival). We can stock the fridge and pantry. We have been exploring places in the area that this family might like to visit.
I’m sure there are things I could prepare ahead of time. Several of you baboons have had grandchildren – or other family members or friends – visit you, and probably have some coping mechanisms for when you have guests for more than an afternoon.
Trail Baboon 